Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
by dukaki
Summary: I do not like getting lost in my head. Others call it a break from reality, I call it a death sentence.
1. Stranger

_Rewriting now, thank you HaloHunter89 for your input and thoughts, really helped me get back into the story along with the idea I had popping into my head to actually make me want to rewrite__ and thank you all of my lovely viewers, hope there's an improvement in the writing. And yes the quote is from Finding Nemo, don't judge._

* * *

"_How do you know something bad isn't gonna happen?!_

_I don't_!**"**

**-**Marlin and Dory, Finding Nemo

**Preface**

"See 'er?"

Daryl looked over at his older brother, grunting as he followed one scabbed finger towards the water's edge. There was a girl there, sitting just on the edge of the sand bar, her bare back exposed to them. Daryl could see her face, but he did note the vibrant red of her hair. It was almost an unnatural color.

"Yeah what bout her?" he asked, pulling his cigarette from his lips and watching the way his brother smirked.

"Think I could get 'er?"

Daryl barked out a laugh, taking a drag from his cigarette before he dropped the stub into the wet sand at his feet. "Nah man, she too classy for ya."

Merle laughed, head tossed back slightly. When he looked forward again Daryl could see how dilated his pupils were and sighed, reaching back to their ice chest and pulling out a beer. He stood and stretched, wishing they could leave but Merle was 'scoping' out women stupid enough to go to bed with him. Daryl popped the cap off, covering it in sand before he took a hard swallow. The rim of the neck hit his lips hard, sending pain through his jaw as he sputtered out the alcohol onto his chest. He looked over his shoulder at the small figure running past him, red hair dancing in the wind as she jogged towards a small silver truck near the tree line. Daryl muttered curses as he took another sip of his beer, eyes open in caution, then he noticed the blood. He looked down at the sand, seeing droplets digging their way deep into the sand; looking behind him he could plainly see the trail of blood.

He heard laughing from men and turned back to the water's edge where there were three men belching out laughter, obviously drunk. One was tall and lanky, holding a large, cerate knife in his large hand. "Told ya it'd cut through her pretty skin."

Daryl grit his teeth, tempted to go over and knock their skulls together, but it meant nothing to him truthfully and he just took another swig of his beet, completely indifferent.


	2. Little Creature

**Daryl**

Hunting always made Daryl feel in…control.

He could hide in the trees, in the hollow logs. He could coat himself in mud, holding the life of something in his own hands. It was an exhilarating feeling, that was what made killing so dangerous. It was easy, that's what most people didn't know. Killing was very simple, you just couldn't be stupid about it. And Daryl was _not_ stupid. He loved to stalk through the underbrush of the Georgia forest floor, his body able to twist and turn whenever and however it felt it needed to. He could be surrounded by the sounds of the forest one moment- the calls of blue jays and the chatter of squirrels, the hiss of the wind and the howl of owls- and then everything would be silent, all because he passed through the right area of the trees. He was a jungle cat here, deep under the cover of the thick trees and summer heat.

He had his crossbow raised as he stalked, eye level, so he could fire when need be. He watched the tracks in the muck made of wet, rotting leaves. That was another thing, the smells of the forest were like air borne adrenaline to him. Rot and nature, the smell of fresh dew or rain, the smell of mud bubbling beneath his boots. There was the scent there, as he tracked through the muck, following the wide berth of tracks in front of him. It was a herd of does, setting out for mating season. Daryl knew that from how perfect the trail was, it could only be doe. If there had been a buck they would have dared to spread out, feeling safe with a large male nearby, ready to defend them. He hissed as he stretched one leg out in front of him, the heel of his boot digging into the muck as he loaded his crossbow with the incredibly sharp arrow. He could hear the shuffling of hooves against the ground ahead, he just could not pin point the location. It was somewhere ahead of him, and that was really all he needed.

It was getting closer, every moment he sat there, listening, he prepared himself. He fell to one knee, raising his weapon in his hand. Closer…closer…closer….a doe stumbled into the cramped clearing in front of him, her front legs wobbly as she looked around franticly. She was running from something, and strangely he figured she must have outrun it seeing as she dipped her head to the forest floor and began to nibble on the worn grass at her hooves, shaking her head but her lips never stopped gliding across the emerald and brown surface.

Daryl grit his teeth, feeling his leg beginning to cramp with the weight he was putting on it. Fuck, he knew he should have stretched before he left camp. He always did, it was something he just had to do in case something like this happened. But that cop…he had just pissed him off too much for him to be able to sit there and bare their stairs as he stretched today. They were all so curious when he did that, as though he never moved, like ever.

He leaned forward, rolling his shoulder and giving his leg some much needed relief. He was too close to the doe to stand or even sit down without her running away. He was maybe four feet from the doe, the way he was dressed, to blend in with the scenery subtly, and the way he made no sound was a god send right now. She would attack him at this distance, and that would be it for Daryl Dixon. If he moved too much or the wrong way he would be dead, or he would go back with no meat and they would all be eating horrible canned food tonight and maybe the next night.

Daryl noticed when the deer froze, lips flat against the ground, teeth slightly bared as she clamped a few pieces of grass between the flat pieces. Her large ears twitched, rotating on her head like satellite dishes. Her head shot up, looking around wildly, searching for the source of her panic. She looked over her flanks, large eyes seemingly wider. What the hell was chasing this thing?

Daryl got his answer pretty fuckin quick.

A small figure, a hell of a lot smaller than the doe, darted from the bushes behind the doe, taking the deer by its neck to the ground. The finger was thin and obviously nimble, skin patchy, ranging from black to brown to white, and there were thick waves of greasy, blood and mud stained hair hanging down over its slim shoulders. It bore down on the doe, using it's whole body to keep the beast down by sitting on its long, sloping neck. The doe struggled uselessly under the creature on top of it, giving faint groans. Her hoofs kicked against the ground, tearing up grass and slipping around the mush it was creating. The creature on her neck lifted its head up, making sounds like it were sniffing the air. It looked around, making a pleased noise low in its throat as it reached over the back of the doe, finally finding what it wanted. It howled and lifted up a large rock above its head, bringing it down hard on the doe's skull, making the bulky body go limp rather quickly.

Daryl leaned his torso forward slightly, confused and entranced by this sight. The doe's hooves pushed through the grime once more, weakly, before they stopped. The creature lifted itself up slightly from the deer, dropping the rock down into the grime, knees bent and rear raised into the air as it cocked its head, examining its kill. A hand shot out too fast to be a human movement and dove into the neck of the doe with little resistance. The hand came back with a large chunk of bloody, raw meat, and the creature stuffed it into its mouth, making more pleased noises as it smacked loudly with the meat.

Daryl eased forward again, curious about what was going on in front of him. He had never seen someone, and it was a someone, act this way. He had never seen someone so wild and filthy; it was amazing and strange.

A twig snapped under his knee, making Daryl cringe and the creature twist around to stare at him. On eye was a dark color, almost black, while the other was swollen shut and slightly purple around the edge. It was a girl that was staring at him, hissing at him, blood spraying from between her lips. Flesh clung between her teeth and, from what Daryl could see, under her nails. She was clad in a tight dress that was torn around the middle, clinging to her chest and waist in tatters. Daryl would have looked away at the top slope of her breast but their eyes were locked. He stood slowly, not wanting to scare her away, like she was a wild animal. Why did he treat her in such a way? Oh right, she was eating raw meat from a deer's neck. Well at least he knew she wasn't a Walker. He could heave the deer over his shoulder if she would let him have it, and if she wouldn't well she would be coming with him.

She watched him cautiously with her one yes, her stance going from threatening to curious., like a feral dog that realized it could trust a human. She stood fully, a strip of red meat dripping from her lips and falling onto her left foot, and stalked towards him, hands splayed and held back at her sides. She stepped with slow, controlled steps, twisting her feet just the right way so as to not make any noise. When she started to circle him, studying him, he did the same, but stayed completely still, only watching her with his steel blue eyes. Her one eye blinked, moving over him rapidly, taking in as much of him as she could as quickly as she could.

"Human…" her voice was scratchy and hoarse from misuse.

He nodded, slowly. What else could he do? What could he say? He couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything other than body language. He was a predator after all, he knew this dance, it was dominance and curiosity. He was trying to make himself as non threatening as possible, watching her ease just a fraction, closer in her circling.

"More?"

He nodded again. "Whole camp."

She nodded but Daryl could tell she didn't really care, only cared about what was happening in this moment between them. Finally she stopped in front of him, staring him down with that one, intense, dark eye before she grunted and turned to the dead deer. Her body turned back into that of a creature and she crouched down, rocking back on her heels before she climbed across the deer and turned to face the hole in the doe's neck. He watched her teeth dig into the meat, seeing how they were haphazardly sharpened to point, the canines and two framing her two front bottom teeth. She watched him as well, cautious, but relaxed in a way.

Finally she looked up, blood soaking her front, then she dug into the flesh, digging around before she held up a handful of the steaming meat. "Eat."

Daryl shook his head. "Got others ta feed, come with me."

She shook her head, digging back into her kill. It was her kill, she deserved it, but Daryl had others to feed. After a few more moments of their silent exchanges she pushed back from the doe, wiping her bloody mouth with the back of her bloody arm. A smear rested there, bright crimson in a sea of black. She looked up at daryl then jerked her chin towards the dead deer, signaling for him to take it, and crawled backwards away from him. He nodded and moved towards it slowly, watching her scuttle further back to a tree nearby. He looked down at the body, making sure he had a good grip on a part that wasn't mush, then looked back up but the girl was gone.

Daryl could not push the thought of her away from his mind as he dragged the body back to camp. Her image and behavior, the grace and mannerisms of a jungle cat, much like himself but far more…feral, was forever burned into his mind. Her body language was strange for a human, strange for one that had been living in this world (post-apocalypse) for such a short period of time. No, she had to have been like that before all this shit went down. But how could such a wild and strange thing go unnoticed before the shit hit the fan? Well, maybe someone had taken notice, he wasn't much of a news watcher before everything went down.

"What the hell happened to that deer?" Shane asked when Daryl dropped it beside him at the fire he was preparing.

He snarled at the ex-cop and then took to his inner thoughts for a moment. How could he tell him what happened out there, in those woods, without freaking everyone out or making them think he was crazy? Well they already thoughts he was crazy but still. He shrugged it off and shoved his hands into his pockets, crossbow sliding down his bicep slightly. Mine as well tell them the truth. He was the supplier of their food, for some strange reason, and they couldn't just push him away. He knew that much.

"Was trackin it and this girl…she kilt it. Beat it in th' head with a rock."

Shane laughed his claim off. "And let me guess, she also took that bite of it's neck right?"

"Yeah."

Daryl was so serious he knew Shane believed him. "Well where the hell is she?"

"Gone, she was gone 'fore I got a hold on the deer."

And Daryl walked away, his brain cramping up when he was trying to figure out what happened out there. What the hell did happen? He saw a girl, a tiny one at that, take down a fully gorwn, healthy doe and kill it, eat out its neck and everything. What the hell was going on in these woods? Were women turning feral and taking down his kills as a way of adapting? Honestly, it would not surprise Daryl if that were the truth. The dead were walking around, it was just such a strange thing to see so the women coming out of the wood work, literally, seemed…normal.

"Where ya been lil brother?"

Daryl sneered at his older brother, seeing him dropt he glass pipe back into hits paper bag between his feet. Daryl loved his brother, and like hell he would ever admit that to anyone, event though he was a worthless piece of shit most of the time. He hated seeing his brother use drugs to numb his pain of their childhood. Daryl never went to drugs, not even beer. Beer reminded him of his home life, his mother and father, and it was just something he wanted to keep from. Wine was more his preference, even if Merle said only women should drink wine.

"Huntin, what yer fat ass been doin? Nothing?" Daryl fell onto one of the logs they rolled in front of their tents.

His brothers tent was right next to his, smaller than his and twice as wide. Of course Merle made his out of a tarp and a couple heavy duty limbs, so it was no surprise it was a strange structure. Daryl groaned, stretching to pop his back and then slouched forward, pulling the knife from his boot and picking at the dirt under his nails.

"Saw this girl out in th' woods," Daryl started, eyes lost in the fire.

"She hot? Cus I'll go find a hot bitch," Merle smirked, pulling the pipe back from the bag and lighting it up.

Daryl growled. "She ate the beck outta th' deer I brought back. She wild man, covered in mud and blood, think she missin an eye."

Merle exhaled a puff of glass and smiled lethargically, shaking his head. "Why didn' ya bring 'er up lil brother? Could've had some fun with 'er." He licked his lips, pupils dilated, focused on something he couldn't see.

"Gone fore I could try ta get 'er. I wouldn' let you near 'er though."

Daryl knew his brother wouldn't have raped her, he was just fucking with him. But Daryl wondered sometimes if Merle was joking or not. Sometimes his brother bothered him, sometimes, he was just too serious about such a thing. But Merle, no matter what he looked like, just knew how to talk the ladies into fucking him or dating him.

Merle laughed a slurred laugh, dropping the glass pipe not into the beg but into the dirt between his feet. "Well shit…"

After that daryl just knew his brother was gone, lost in a haze of meth. He'd be up in a minute, wondering off somewhere to look for something to kill. Daryl tried to avoid his brother then, he just go too much like their father for Daryl to handle. His father had been arrogant and always on some drug, be it meth, alcohol or something green. Merle had traveled down that path years ago and was inching closer and closer to that outcome. The younger brother grunted softly and stood, walking into his ten and searched through a large garbage bag of canned and bagged food for something easy to chew on until he got enough to gather the patience to go get real meat. Since he taught Shane and T-Dog how to prepare a deer he hadn't needed to deal with the cleaning and sectioning he hadn't needed to deal with it so his afternoons had gotten lazy to the point of him napping like a swaddled kitten.

He popped open a small can of sausages, his taste buds weren't real picky, and laid back on his bedroll, staring at the ceiling of his tent and chewing slowly. He didn't like getting lost in his own head, he would nit pick everything to death and that got aggravating after awhile. He rolled onto his side, coughing into his fist.

"Where's Daryl?" he heard a soft voice ask outside of his tent.

He blinked his eyes open, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the hell of his hand. When had he fallen asleep? He looked over and saw the half empty thing of sausages on its side. He felt weird, he always did when he fell asleep during the day. He sat up, breathing out heavily through his nose and pushing to his feet. Carol was standing outside of hit tent, looking down at Merle with a disgusted face and a paper towel covered plate in her boney, aged hands. Daryl grunted and caught Carols attention, holding out his hand when her cheery face snapped into place.

"Here, Lori made a plate for you," she whispered, rubbing the side of her face while she cradled the elbow.

He nodded and took a hold of the plate, stepping out of the tent fully when carol was a safe distance away from their camp. He didn't like Carol for some reason, maybe it was the way she flirted with him when he made it clear he had no interest. He was never interested in women, not that he was queer, he just knew women got in the way.

Daryl wondered out behind his tent discretely, resting his lazy ass on a lump of underbrush, sighing in relief when his back cracked. He started to pick at the food on his plate, popping a few pieces of meat in his mouthing and humming slightly as he rocked his head a little. He wondered which deer this was from. Did they toss the piece the girl chewed on, or did they keep it see if Daryl was just crazy and it wasn't a normal human eating flesh. He shook his head and popped two more pieces of meat into his mouth, chewing slowly and looking up at the night sky, the stars. He remembered doing such a thing, star gazing, with his grandmother when he was young.

He heard it, the sound of crunching bones and the squishing of raw meat pulsing blood to the surface. He turned his head to the left, seeing the strange glow of her eyes, the soft curve of her bloody face. In her mouth hung a chunk of the deer head, the origins made known by the eye ball dangling from a thin strip of meat comically.


	3. Holy Shit

**Daryl**

He simply could not _believe_ she was here, in front of him, lent back on her hackles like a dog, chewing on the very flesh she had killed hours ago. daryl stared at her, frozen in place with his jaw still mid chew. Daryl Dixon was not _scared_ of this woman, this little creature, he was afraid, however, of the other members of the group finding her and scaring her away. She cocked her head to the side suddenly, a jerky movement, and Daryl jumped a little, eyes wide. That scared her and she jerked back, catching herself with her bony hands; she dropped the flesh against her legs and hissed, a feral noise. Bits of flesh clinging to her teeth tried to fly towards him but were too caught in the crevices to get away. Daryl swallowed hard and raised a hand in submission, when that did nothing to ease her tension, he slowly set his plate down and raised the other. Finally she seemed satisfied and gave a small, cautious nod, leaning forward. The raw meat fell from her lap and to the ground with a disgusting 'plop', but Daryl was more focused on her breathing as she moved closer.

She moved closer at a slow pace, daryl noticed her nose twitching until he heard her begin to…sniff at him. He himself could smell her, plain as fucking day; she smelt of rot and dust, a disgusting, harmonious match. It coated her skin, now that she was so close Daryl could make out details he dared find, even in the barely lit darkness they were in. her ears were pierced multiple times, all of the cartilage with one Celtic cross at the bottom of her lobe on the right here, the other presumably lost somewhere in the forest. Each ring looked infected, just like the two glowing green dots on the underside of her full, scabbed bottom lip. She reached up, her hand following his eyes to her lips, wonder flashing through that one eye. He could see a small sparrow in the crook between her pointer and thumb.

He looked back up to her one eye and saw how infested the other was. He doubted there was even an eye in there with the way it was. The crease was scabbed and splotches of purple floated around, puss seeping from a few choice spots.

"Clean," she mumbled, running a hand over her chest and stomach.

He nodded. "We can get ya clean, women can."

She shook her head and sat back on her heels again, picking up the flesh and watching Daryl sit there as she began to eat. Everything in him, common sense and logic, told him to go tell the others. He should tell the others that this little creature, the one that took down the deer they were eating, was bouncing around the edges of the camp. His body would not listen though, he just went back to eating. He wandered how long she had been sneaking around the camp, apparently looking for him. Had she followed him back or just found the camp?

She swallowed and set her flesh back down, then reached up and let her fingertips brush against the swollen eye socket, wincing slightly. "Infected," she mumbled, lowering her hand.

He nodded, setting his plate down once more, "Yeah, we can get that taken care of, if ya let us."

She stared at him, thinking about her options but shook her head again, hissing when he sighed in frustration. He was just trying to hep her and she was shooting down every chance. His back went ram rod straight but she didn't attack, just grabbed er slice of flesh and took off into the forest. Daryl heaved a sigh of relief and stood, leaving the food where it was in case she came back and wanted to try cook food for the first time in a while apparently.

"Wha cha doin lil brother?" Merle cooed when Daryl walked around the tent.

Daryl froze for a moment, seeing the three, long white pills in his brothers' mouth as he reached for a sip of the whiskey at his feet. He shook his head and grunted, picking up his crossbow. He secured it around his shoulder and turned back to the forest. What was he doing?

"Goin huntin," he mumbled before disappearing into the underbrush.

That little creature…he searched for her for probably hours. He wished he could get more out of her than one word at a time. Why would she only speak like that anyway? She must know how to speak English if she could speak at all. Why wouldn't she stay with the group? She could get herself cleaned up, maybe be pretty if she wanted to be. Daryl shook his head and growled. He was way too enamored with this strange creature. She was way too enamored with him as well, taking such a strange interest in him. What was so special about him? Was it because he was just as filthy, almost as wild? Or was it because he was a predator as well?

A twig snapped behind him and daryl twisted, shooting a Walker in the head before it could reach him it groaned and turned slightly, falling into the muck with a thump. Daryl could fee his heart beating wildly in his chest, heard it thrumming like a humming birds wings, but didn't smile like he usually would. He grumbled and walker over to the Walker, using the toe of his boots to flip the 'zombie' over and jerked his arrow out with his foot on its chest. He went back to the trail in front of him, seeing the many small footprints beneath his large feet. The footprints came back and forth through the same trial a lot, telling Daryl either she had taken that way a lot to get out of the forest to find more food and water before they got there, or she had been coming to watch the camp a lot.

What if she had been? What if she learned to speak by watching all of them interact and mingle and all that bullshit? What if she had come in contact with the children? That made Daryl's nostrils flare for some reason. He guessed he had a soft spot for kids because he was abused as one. He didn't want to abandon them like everyone else abandoned him.

"What you doin 'ere." A soft voice came from his right.

He swallowed hard, freezing in his spot, and followed the source of the voice.

She was there, crouching in the bushes and shaking, probably from the cold. It always got a bit chilly at night this far north. Daryl squat down slowly to her level, making her back away from him in caution, but she didn't run. She just watched very carefully as he leaned his back against a tree and stared at her. He stuck the end of his crossbow against the ground, sighing when his back popped.

"Came ta look fer ya, why not come back to th' camp with me?"

She swallowed thickly, scratching at the back of her left wrist. "Seen your camp, seen that big man stalking around. Don't like him."

She spoke like a caveman, slow and steadily, but off. "Well I'll protect ya from the 'big man'. How's that sound?"

She cocked her head to the side, chewing on her lip slowly as she considered his words, like back at the tent. Finally she nodded, but looked down at herself, frowning and digging her fingers into her bare stomach.

"Wash first," she mumbled, looking up at him.

Daryl nodded. That would probably be a good idea. If anyone in the camp saw her this way they'd probably shoot her, thinking she was a Walker. They both stood, slowly, cautious as they had been since first meeting each other they walked, her behind him while he led her towards the small creek everyone bathed in. Her eye was distrusting as she shuffled on the creeks edge, her fingers wringing he hem of whatever it was she was wearing until it was permanently crinkled.

She looked back at him, and if her eye didn't look the way it did, he would be aroused. She looked innocent, but he knew better.

"I ain't gonna watch ya, just makin sure there ain't no Walkers around." Daryl assured her, turning around to sit on a low rock after making a quick sweep of the area with his eagle eyes.

After a moment he heard her shuffle further away from him and heard whatever she was wearing smack against the small rocks beneath their feet. He swallowed, risking his life pretty much to satisfy or enrage his hormones by looking over his shoulder. He back was to him, body long, arms and neck included. her curved, smooth back dripped with blood and mud, thick globs running over the swell in her hips until it smacked against the ground. her long hair was stiff and greasy, swaying against her back in one mass as she walked further into the water.

Daryl turned around, rubbing his face. Fuck, why did he do that? why look at her that way? she didn't need to say it but he knew she didn't trust him, not one bit, but he couldn't help himself. He was a man after all, and a man has needs. But looking at her back…damn that put him in a bigger frenzy than any clean woman ever had. It was like he had gotten a head rush, one you get from blowing your nose too hard.

A moment later he heard soft, wet feet pat against the rock and shrugged out of his flannel shirt, holding it behind him. "Here," he mumbled, knowing she could hear him.

She took the shirt without a word, buttoning it up gently. Daryl looked her over, watching her stare up at the moon, her hair in cleanish, dark waves over her shoulders. He could see her skin had a soft tan to it, water droplets shimmering almost in the dim moonlight. His shirt sagged off one of her shoulders, making it harder for him to contain himself. If she wasn't so jumpy he would slap himself, or ram his head into something. Hard.

"C'mon already," Daryl said, pushing off of the rock.

They walked in silence, her humming a soft tune he recognized as an old lullaby, and swaying her way in front of him slightly. Her bare feet pushed her against the ground, giving her a slight jog. She danced in circles around him occasionally, her eye darting around the area, focusing in on him more than once. They lingered on him mostly, all over him, before they would focus on the tree line again.

A squirrel jumped across their path once and she had jumped towards it, whining low in her throat like a mutt when she realized it had gotten away. She slinked back to him and continued her strange walking ritual. After a moment of staring at her Daryl lifted his eyes and cursed lowly, reaching out and catching her wrist in his hand. She jerked from his grasp, growling at him with her teeth bared. They were perfectly white with a few faint, red streaks between the creases.

"I has to tell them about ya first," Daryl pointed to the fires through the brush. "Don' want them spookin ya," he explained.

She looked forward, at the fires, and sighed. She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, stepping out of his way reluctantly. Daryl nodded and walked forward, clenching the strap of his crossbow tightly. He sighed in relief when he saw the rational members of the group gathered around the fire. Even if Shane was annoying _and_ a dick, he was good with new comers. But daryl wandered if he could handle animals.

"When did ya leave?" Shane asked, standing up from the fire.

Carol, Lori, Morales and Dale looked up in curiosity. Dale poked at the fire gently, sending a burst of glowing embers into the night air. Daryl shuffled hesitantly, looking back at the woods before he put on his stone hard face.

"The girl, the one that took down the deer. She out there, waiting for me ta bring 'er into camp."

Shane's eyes hardened. "Why did you bring her here?"

"She came to my tent then she ran off. I think she missing a eye. she all cut up and shit, she need help or she's gonna die."

Shane nodded, obviously still hesitant about letting such a creature into the camp. Daryl understood, he was still hesitant to, but he couldn't just let a woman die out there. He couldn't let her live the way she did, couldn't just let her fester and rot. No, he wouldn't be able to take it if open day he saw her as a Walker, knowing he could have prevented it.

Shane sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well bring her in, let's see this wild one." He let out a cautious chuckle.

"Gonna wanr ya to be careful, she wild, don't like people."

Shane rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, just hurry it up already."

Daryl growled and turned on his heel, stomping back into the woods. If Shane fucked up that girl might kill him. He knew she had it in him. The though pleased Daryl immensely, making a feral purr start in his chest. He would help kill the annoying cp if it came down to it. He didn't see himself exactly saving the asshole.

"C'mon," he mumbled when he reached her.

She looked up from the ground, smiling at him with one tooth overlapping her bottom lip. She followed him closely, close enough that he could feel the heat rolling off of her. She was more animal than human. Her fingers snaked their way through one of his belt loops, keeping her incredibly close. He went to protest but saw how badly she was shaking. Sighing he shrugged it off and just went along with it. He didn't want to scare her off.

"Oh my god…" Lori stood, a hand over her mouth and her already freakishly large eyes like saucers.

The little creature behind him growled and snapped her teeth at the tall woman. Lori's angry eyes flashed to Shane, silently telling him to handle this. Shane turned to Daryl and the little creature, looking extremely tired.

"What's your name?" Shane asked, looking down at her.

She hissed and buried her face in Daryl's arm, one eye peeking out from above the tan flesh. Daryl tensed up, wanting to pull away but wanted to make sure she was safe here first. Shane went to walk forward but she hissed again, moving back and dragging the redneck with her. He grits his teeth and jerked her upright with the grip she had on his arm.

"Ya agreed to come to the camp, now act right," he growled out lowly, almost scolding her.

She glared at him but nodded, backing off of the redneck enough so she could be seen, but kept her long fingers curled in one of his belt loops.

"Demitri, my name is Demitri." Her voice was almost melodic, but rough.

"How did you get like this in such a short amount of time?" Carol asked, standing. "I mean it hasn't been that long since the plague hit."

Demitri shied away from the woman. "I've been damaged since before the plague, but how I got this way is none of your business right?"

_Think I'm gonna like her,_ Daryl smirked.


	4. Home

**Dimitri**

I don't like her touching me, Carol.

Her boney fingers are shaky and as I said before, boney. They sting when they rub against the swollen flesh of my eye. At least I hope that there is an eye in there. It has been like this since the epidemic hit thanks to a bobcat. It went right for my eyes, but thankfully I saved my other eyes with my hand. I still have a few scars on my side, their close to being healed already.

I flinch away from Carol's chipped nails, hissing. "I said careful dammit!"

She nods shyly, going for the gauze that rests between her legs. "I have to wrap it for a few days, or at least until the swelling goes don't. If you don't have your eyes, or at the very least your sight we will get you an eye patch or something."

Nodded, closing my good eyes while she wraps my head. I should have brushed my hair before I let her wrap my eye. The color, of my hair, is still that rich crimson I inherited from my mother. I wonder if she is still alive or if the dead got her. Maybe _they_ got her. I don't want to think about them because then I'll start to throw a damn fit. I don't want to think about it because it hurts and right now I just want to rest, here in this little camp where everything seems nice and right at my fingertips. Everything seems so well put together here, like everyone just packed up their houses and set up in the trees.

"There, all done," Carol smiled, leaning back and placing the white tape on the bottom of the tent beside us. "I can go find you a tent if you want me to. I know Glenn has a few extra's."

I shook my head and rubbed my knees, looking around the tent. "No um…I'm good. I'll just sit here for a few more minutes if that's alright."

Carol nodded and stood. "If you need anything honey I'll be down by the quarry. Someone can show you the way."

I nodded and watched her leave with a small smile still on my lips. I looked around the tent again, trying to calm the way my heart was racing. My head hurt so fucking bad right now, from the way she had poked and prodded my eye. It felt so weird to be clean, it felt so strange to be in actual clothes, even if it was a strangers shirt. What was that man's name again? Daryl? He saved me, saved me from the unknown out there. I already miss being wild and free, but I'm happy he took me away from there, the woods. The unknown was a lot of things; walkers, coyotes or that same animal that did this to me. I should thank him, by the way he acted around the women that had flocked me moments ago he wasn't a people person and that had been a big deal, being around people. Hell it was a big deal to me, but he was the one that saved me, not the other way around. I should thank him, defiantly, now that I'm talking again. Living like an animal like I was for the amount of time I had makes a person lose bits of themselves. I've talked to myself a lot, but luckily I have not answered myself. I wonder if it's true, but then again they say people that talk to themselves period or crazy.

I stood up from the folding chair and stepped out of the tent, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand. I looked around the camp, rubbing my arms. There were a few kids running around, but under the shade of the trees. Why the hell was I in the only tent outside of the woods? I raised a brow to this but shook it off, walking around the fire pit in front of me, still looking around in curiosity.

"Damn girl, ya clean up nicely."

I twisted around on my heel, baring my teeth at the man in front of me. He was disgusting, covered in dust, smelling of meth and rot. my nose twitched, just like the part of my brain that was telling me to get as far away from him as possible. He grinned at me, eyes rolling down me as I tugged on the bottom hem of Daryl's shirt. He ran a hand over his stomach and chest, leaning back slightly as he tucked a finger inside a holein his wife beater.

Ha, wife beater. If I knew him better I would say it was ironic, but I doubted this man had anyone attracted to him enough that they would marry him.

"What's wrong girly, scared o' me?" he cackled, taking a step forward.

I took a step back and hissed. "Disgusted more like it, get the fuck away from me you swine."

His mocking face turned dark, joking tone leaving as he spoke to me, raising a finger to point at me. "Now listen here you bi-"

"Merle get th' fuck away from 'er," a voice growled.

I knew that voice, that gravelly thick accent was one of a kind. I turned to my left, my chest rising high when I saw him walking towards us. He was glaring at Merle, stopping a foot from me, watching Merle with those predator eyes. We were alike in that way, we were animals, I just embraced my animalistic side while he seemed to control it. I doubt I can control it now, I think I've let it live on the outside too long.

Merle licked his bottom lip and looked between us, one brow raised. "So she yer hoe, lil bother?"

So these things were related? A powerful stalker and the creature that was equivalent to a bear? Merle didn't look like he had any stealth at all, while Daryl went unnoticed to me when I took down that deer. I may have been preoccupied with the hunt but I usually notice another animal watching me. I wonder if he would inquire on how I took down a fully grown deer with how little weight I had on me. If he asked I wouldn't have any answers, I'm just as lost on it as him.

"I belong to no one, you disgusting vermin," I growled, jerking forward.

He turned his glare on me and went to take a step forward but I lifted my leg quickly and kicked him in his chest. The shock of my attack actually had an effect on him and he stumbled back, hitting the ground he muttered a few choice curse words under his breath and rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself to his feet. I smirked at him, victory coursing through me as Daryl grumbled at my side. Merle growled himself and went to charge at me but I took a step back, forcing daryl to stand in front of me, between us.

"Back off Merle, ain't no reason ta keep pushin 'er," Daryl sighed, rubbing his face. He was worn out.

I loosened my tense shoulders, feeling safe with Daryl in front of me. I reached out and twined my fingers in the same belt loop I had earlier when meeting their leader. I noticed his shoulders rise in tension and my brow scrunched. Why did he act that way when I did this? I wasn't even touching him, but I guess it was a little weird, I mean I am a stranger after all, but still that shouldn't make him so tense. Did no one show him any affection or give him a social ground? The same could be said for me I guess, but not before all of this mess. I hate human contact, but before the plague I was all about some human contact. I was happy and carefree and I loved to party, go to clubs and hang out at bonfires in the sticks. It was fun and sometimes romantic, it was great. Now I was afraid of those contacts, of any contact now but touching Daryl, being near him, seemed so easy, natural. I hope it didn't seem too weird to him or anyone, it was just something I seemed to be able to do without it seeming weird to me.

Merle looked over at me, then his brother, his glare burning holes in our foreheads. He licked his lips and then sneered. "Fuck it," he spit on the ground at Daryl's feet and stalked off into the woods.

I let Daryl go, looking over my shoulder to watch Merle's back thumping into the woods. When I turned back around I jumped back a step, meeting Daryl's eyes. He was so fucking close. It scared the fuck out of me. I noticed I was a few inches shorter than him, which made it so much easier to get distracted by his sharp, examining eyes. we examined each other, like we did out in the woods.

"What she say bout yer eye," he pointed at the wrappings for a second before dropping his hand to his side, flexing his fingers.

I reached up and touched the wrappings gently. "Sh-She said we'd have to wait for the swelling to go down to see if eyes ok." I dropped my hand back to me side, rubbing the arm with my other hand. "I don't think theres anything in there though."

"Why ya say that," he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

I shrugged a little. "Got attacked by a cat, long story."

"Speakin of a story, what's yers? Why were you out in there," he jerked his chin at the woods line."

I looked back out to the woods, tears pricking at my eyes. I looked down at the ground, my eyes moving to the toes of his boots. "I really don't want to talk about it…" my voice sounded so small.

I could hear him swallow. He didn't know what to do, he was confused by this whole situation and so was I. "Well uh..ya hungry," I nodded. "Then come on over here and sit down."

I followed him closely, reaching out for a moment to grab at his belt loop but for some reason I looked over, feeling eyes on me, and saw a large man sitting beside Carol with his eyes on me. He leered grossly and I retracted my hand, scratching the back of my hand. I looked at Daryl's back, thinking. Carol and Lori told me that he wasn't one to let people get close or touch him without threatening to nearly bite. She said I was special. I am hardly special. I'm sure if he saved _her_ out in the woods he would let her cling to him.

We stopped in front of two tents, Daryl sitting on one small log while I sat on the other. I rubbed my arms and stared down into the fire, looking up only when I heard Daryl moving around on his log. He was skewering two squirrels on two sticks, shoving them into the ground with a grunt.

He looked over at me when he noticed my staring and sighed, rubbing his face. "Can I ask how long you were out there?"

I nodded. "A month before the plague until yesterday."

"That's a long fuckin time."

I nodded again. I looked up at the orange sky, seeing trails of a jets smoke. That was weird…why would there be jet smoke through the air? I jumped a little when I heard a loud crack and looked over my shoulder at the other camp. There were new sparks flying into the air from the fire their leader and Lori were sitting around. There were so many people over there, why weren't Merle and Daryl over there with them? They should be there, they were a part of the group weren't they? I wish I could have found all of them, all of them, when the shit hit the fan. I wouldn't have been left to my own devices, I wouldn't have become what I am, a monster, an animal. I was alone out there, in the woods, for so long I don't know how to adjust right. The only reason I'm sitting here with Daryl is because he doesn't make a noise, it's almost like he wasn't here. It's hard adjusting to having someone near me after all this time, let alone a whole group of people. My fingers won't stop twitching and I can feel a headache starting behind my eye(s?) at the buzz of their voices over there. They weren't that far from us, but they were far enough for me to be unable to make out their words.

"Got a spare sleepin bag if ya want it."

I looked back at Daryl, watching him rub at the back of his neck nervously with a sort of red tint to his cheeks. That was all it took? Wow. "Thank you for the offer, I would love to have the sleeping bag."

He swallowed again. "Ya can share the tent with me…if ya want to."

I chuckled at his nervous offer. "No it's fine, I'll just sleep outside. Don't worry about it."

He grumbled to himself and pulled the sticks up from the ground, handing me one. I smiled a little at him and started pulling pieces off of the squirrel. It tasted good, not real good, but it was something other than raw meat. I forgot what cooked meat tasted like. I hate to admit the only reason I ate raw meat was because I didn't know how to start a fire. I was meant for the city where that wasn't needed, I never learned. I had a prissy father and my grandfather was the hunting type but he refused to have anything to do with our family. I can't say I liked the taste of raw meat, but it was either that or a I starve. I could have stayed with this one group…but they just weren't my type. I couldn't handle them, I knew that after watching them from the woods for a few days. Thought they were normal but they weren't.

After a few moments Daryl stood up and stalked around to his tent. I looked up just in time to catch the sleeping bag before it hit me in the face. I held it up as a silent thank you and he grunted, returning to his tent. I stared at the zipper as it made its way around to close off the tent from the rest of the world. I looked back out to the woods afterwards, longing to go out there. I wanted to go back, I wanted to go and hunt and run around naked. Bet I could do that here but I didn't want to get raped or scare any people off. Plus there were kids and that would just kill them, or their parents when they asked what boobs were.

I looked back down at the last piece of meat on the squirrel skeleton. I wanted…I wanted to be here. I wanted to be near people like I used to, having fun and talking like normal people. I wanted to be around the one person that hasn't run off from me yet. Daryl obviously rathered me to the rest of the people around here. he put the extra effort to catch me and get me back here, to some sort of civilization. What the hell did he see in me? Why couldn't I see it? I mean, it is me that I'm talking about, I should be able to see something special in me, so what was so special about _him_?

Maybe he was born with a veil over his face.

My grandma, well she really wasn't my grandma, she was just a neighbor that treated me like I was her grandchild, told me about those type of people. Having a veil meant you had some sort of sixth sense. They could see ghosts or spirits, hear things that others couldn't. They were special people. They were used in the old days to tell if a person meant any harm to them or not, they're friends and family, their homes.

My sister was like that, she had the veil. She always creeped my mother out. One time mom went out in the backyard and saw Molly just holding onto this baby bird, talking to it. Mom swore she saw that bird come back to life, but Molly defended that the bird had been alive from the beginning.

I hope Molly was ok. I hope she is alive and well. Maybe she has her own group. I think she could survive on her own in this world. Molly was like me, only she could control herself a little better because she didn't want to make our mother more of an outcast in her own home. But that meant I was the outsider to my mother. I wonder if she's with mom, it would seem likely.

I sighed and stood, walking over to a clear spot in the bushes to unroll my sleeping bag. I know it was early but after getting clean, treated and eating I was so tired. I needed sleep, I needed rest if I was going to keep up with this mobile group.

* * *

_Sorry its only one chapter this time, but this took me a minute to get out. I'm gonna try to upload another chapter tonight._


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